Rejected the groom, Married his mafia brother instead

"I won't marry you." The words slipped from my lips so quietly that for a moment I thought nobody had heard them. Then silence swallowed St. Aurelia Cathedral whole. The priest froze. The orchestra stopped playing. And the man standing across from me looked as though I had slapped him. Matteo De Luca stared at me in disbelief. "What?" I slowly removed the engagement ring from my finger. A collective gasp swept through the cathedral. Three hundred guests watched in stunned silence as the diamond slipped from my hand and landed on the marble floor between us. The sound echoed through the church. Sharp. Final. Real. For the first time since opening my eyes this morning, I felt like I could breathe. Because I knew exactly what happened if I married Matteo De Luca. I knew exactly how my story ended. I knew that one year from now I would discover him in my bed with my sister. I knew that one year from now I would learn that my inheritance had been stolen. I knew that one year from now I would die. Not because fate decided it. Because they killed me. "Charlotte." Matteo took a step forward. I took one back. "No." Confusion rippled through the cathedral. Guests began whispering. Nobody understood what was happening. Nobody except me. Slowly, I turned away from the altar. Another wave of gasps followed. Because brides who abandoned their weddings usually ran toward the exit. I wasn't heading for the exit. I was walking toward the front pew. Toward the only man in Sicily powerful enough to destroy Matteo De Luca. Alessandro De Luca. Matteo's older brother. The future head of the De Luca empire. The most dangerous man in Palermo. The entire cathedral seemed to stop breathing as I approached him. Alessandro rose from his seat. Tall. Silent. Terrifying. His dark eyes never left mine. I stopped directly in front of him. Then I lifted my chin. "Alessandro De Luca." My heart pounded. And then I asked the question that changed everything. "Will you marry me instead?” HOW IT ALL STARTED The day my sister inherited everything my father built was the day I should have realized I was already dead. Twenty-four hours later, I discovered that losing my inheritance was the least painful thing they had planned for me. Yesterday, the boardroom of Vercelli Holdings had been filled with lawyers, executives, shareholders, and family members dressed in black as they gathered for the final reading of Leonardo Vercelli's will. My father's portrait hung behind the chairman's seat, watching over the room with the same calm authority he had carried throughout his life, and despite the grief sitting heavily in my chest, I had walked into that room believing I was honoring everything he had spent years teaching me. For as long as I could remember, my father had prepared me to lead Vercelli Holdings. He had taken me to meetings when I was barely old enough to understand balance sheets, he had taught me how to negotiate and ,trusted my judgment, I believed him, and that was why I sat in the boardroom without fear, while I smiled at Seraphina when she took her seat across from me, and why I never noticed the strange look that passed between her and our mother, Vivienne. Attorney Romano unfolded the document and began reading. At first, everything seemed normal as he listed properties, investments,and other assets that made up the Vercelli empire. Then he reached the controlling shares and the room fell silent. I listened as he announced asset after asset, and every single one was transferred to Seraphina. At first I thought I had heard him wrong. Then another asset was transferred to Seraphina. Then another. And another. The confusion arrived first, followed by disbelief, and then something colder and heavier settled in my chest. By the time Attorney Romano finished reading, every major asset my father owned had been transferred to my younger half-sister. Not half. Not most. Everything. I could feel dozens of eyes turning toward me. The board members looked shocked, several executives exchanged confused glances, and one elderly director actually frowned at the document as though he expected the words to rearrange themselves. None of it made sense. My father had spent years preparing me to take over the company, yet according to the will, I was suddenly worth nothing. I barely remembered the rest of the meeting. I remembered Seraphina crying delicate tears that made her look innocent, I remembered Vivienne wrapping her arms around me and pretending to comfort me, and I remembered forcing a smile while my entire world collapsed around me. Most of all, I remembered Matteo squeezing my hand beneath the table and whispering that everything would be okay. I believed him. God help me, I believed him. I convinced myself that I did not care about the inheritance. Money had never motivated me. Power neither. What hurt was the thought that my father had changed his mind. What hurt was believing that somehow I had disappointed him and that the man who had once promised me the future of Vercelli Holdings had decided I was no longer worthy of it. By the time I returned home that evening, exhaustion sat heavily on my shoulders. The penthouse was unusually quiet, after placing my handbag on the table and loosening the collar of my blouse, I considered calling Matteo. I needed comfort, reassurance, and someone to tell me that my life had not completely fallen apart. Then I heard laughter. It was soft, comfortable, and intimate, the kind of laughter that belonged to someone who felt completely at home. The sound drifted from the second floor. I froze. The laugh felt familiar. Too familiar. Slowly, I climbed the staircase, and with every step my stomach tightened a little more. The laughter came again and this time I recognized it immediately. Seraphina. My hand closed around the bedroom door handle and something deep inside me whispered that I should walk away, that I should turn around and leave before I saw whatever was waiting for me on the other side of that door. Instead, I pushed it open. And everything changed. The first thing I saw was Matteo. The second thing I saw was my sister. Seraphina was sleeping with my husband! For a moment, my mind refused to understand what my eyes were seeing. The room seemed to tilt beneath my feet and the air disappeared from my lungs. Neither of them looked guilty. Neither of them looked surprised. In fact, they looked almost calm, as though they had expected this moment to happen eventually. I stared at them. They stared back. Then Seraphina smiled. Not nervously. Not apologetically. Triumphantly. And suddenly everything made sense. The inheritance. The strange looks. The false sympathy. The tears. The lies. Every piece of the puzzle slid into place with horrifying clarity. My voice barely worked. "How long?" Neither of them answered. A broken laugh escaped me. "How long?" Seraphina finally spoke. "Long enough."